


Restless

by everythingispoetry



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Churches & Cathedrals, Confessions, F/M, Religious Content, Roman Catholicism, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingispoetry/pseuds/everythingispoetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different kind of clean slate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> This story was requested by a lovely person who wants to stay anonymous, thank you very much for this prompt and for the fantastic discussion we shared <3 It was a difficult thing to write and you might find Tony ooc here because it's a story about faith and religion and it's difficult to imagine Tony Stark in the middle of that, but I tried to make it plausible and I hope it feels that way at least a little bit.

 

**examination of conscience**

Someone sits on the wooden bench next to Tony, having walked up with almost no sound. Tony’s face is still buried in his hands as he tries to steady his breaths and think about anything but what’s in his head, anything but the darkness and the starts and the destruction that will devour him as soon as he steps out of the building.

‘Can I help you somehow?’ a soft male voice asks and Tony shakes his head for no. He’s sweaty and clammy and he can guess his face is pale and – it’s all just scary.

But he deserves this for everything he’s done.

Sometimes he wonders if it was his destiny, to float endlessly in outer space until he dissolved into nothingness.

‘I haven’t seen you here before,’ the man says quietly, his voice echoing in the vast space, as if it were a murmur of the sea that never really ceases, running through the stone cliffs. There are stone columns here, Tony knows. It somehow fits.

‘I haven’t been to a church in over thirty years,’ he says a moment later, when he finally collects himself enough to draw a normal breath. ‘And I probably shouldn’t be here.’

‘Then why are you?’

‘I needed a break,’ Tony sighs. He needs a goddamn break from everything on the outside. ‘This might be the only place that doesn’t remind me of anything from out there – it’s dark and quiet and calm. No one is staring.’

‘Then why shouldn’t you be here?’

‘I don’t believe in God,’ Tony spats and lifts his head from the cradle of his palms. The church is full of mysterious shadows, with a soft breath of wind coming from the open door and touching his bare ankles. Only the tabernacle in the middle of the altar is illuminated, making its gold surface shine brilliantly. ‘You know who I am. I don’t believe in God and I did lots of bad things. I killed people.’

‘You’re not the only one,’ the priest says; Tony can tell now that the man’s a priest. He’s wearing a cassock and holding a rosary in his hand.

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’ Tony asks, leaning into the uncomfortable seat.

‘No, that’s supposed to make you rationalize your thoughts,’ the man answers in an almost-whisper, turning around to Tony. His eyes are brighter than Tony’s ever seen and he just seems so young. ‘You did what you had to do, even it if was not a good thing. That’s not something that can’t be forgiven. Did you enjoy killing those people? Did you do it deliberately and on purpose?’

‘Do you think I’m some kind of a monster?’ Tony asks, letting the anger he’s been bottling up sneak into his voice. The priest doesn’t react to it though.

‘I don’t, that’s exactly what I mean. You know you did wrong and it matters,’ he says, turning one of the rosary’s beads around in mesmerizing fluid movements. ‘Why do _you_ think you’re a monster, then?’ he adds, making Tony turn around sharply, and suddenly he’s looking straight into the priest’s calm eyes.

He can’t stand it.

He rises to his feet abruptly, ignoring the sudden pounding in his head, and almost runs out of the church, straight into the sunlight and warm air and noises of a lunch hour rush, the rays blinding him so he shields his eyes from them with his arm and walks quickly, trying to breathe slowly, and doesn’t look back.

 

 

 

**sorrow for one’s sins**

‘I was baptized, you know,’ Tony says next time when the priest sits next to him.

He isn’t sure why he’s in the church again, it’s crazy, it’s silly and irrational and he’s Tony fucking Stark, he doesn’t do irrational, he’s a _scientist_ , right?

Right.

But he was out there doing some PR stuff and when he was going back home he had a panic attack again, scary and overwhelming and impossible, and he couldn’t breathe because it felt like everyone was staring at him accusingly with their hollow eyes, whispering his name.

And it’s terrifying, knowing that he could have died just like that, leaving behind so many unresolved stories. Without taking back some words he said while he meant them but now he knows he was wrong. Without telling Pepper how much she matters to him and apologizing for every time he almost made her heart stop. Without balancing his ledger, as Natasha would say.

‘I even had First Communion,’ he continues. ‘My mother insisted but soon after that I left for boarding school and I was all on my own – okay. Don’t listen to me, I’m just rambling. I’ve been… restless, recently. Can’t keep my mouth shut when I should.’

‘You came back,’ the priest observes simply.

‘God it silly, you know? Believing there is someone out there doing all the divine stuff and being all-powerful, it’s stilly. We’ve seen aliens and foreign gods – you know Thor – so none of your tales make sense. We’re not the only ones in the universe. The world wasn’t created a few thousand years ago. It’s all just dumb.’

‘And yet you are here.’

‘I know I’m here, stop telling me the obvious,’ Tony spats, wrapping his arms around his chest even tighter. It’s defensive, he knows, but he can’t stop himself from doing it.

‘I apologize,’ the priest says with one corner of his lips crawling upwards.

They sit in silence for a few long minutes, unmoving. Tony can hear the man’s soft mumble of a prayer, fingers moving over the rosary beads, and it makes him remember his grandmothers that he only saw once in his life. She had a rosary, too, and called him Tony despite Howard’s protests, and ruffled his hair. He couldn’t have been older than three.

‘It’s all extremely complicated,’ the priest finally says, making Tony flinch slightly at the sudden noise. ‘With aliens and space travel and people who call themselves demi-gods. But it’s not impossible. Do you know some stories from the Bible?’

‘I guess –’

‘Remember the Crossing of the Red Sea?’ he asks and Tony nods. Everyone knows that tale. ‘Do you know Samson’s story? I thought you would,’ the man says when Tony nods again. ‘I know you might think it’s just made up words but if you really believe that the Bible is God’s word, that it’s the truth, nothing supernatural is that strange anymore. And if aliens are just another part of the world we’re living in, so be it.’

‘Aren’t you – weren’t you scared?’ Tony can’t help but ask; the church is pretty close to the battle-damaged part of the city so everything had to be audible and visible, the portal and the Chitauri coming from up in the air, everything.

‘Of course I was scared. It’s human nature to be scared of the unknown,’ the priest says levelly and Tony is quite sure it’s not the answer he wanted to hear.

‘But?’

‘But when you’re at peace with yourself and with God, death doesn’t seem that scary.’

Tony can hear the words but they feel so, so unreal, how can death not be scary? He almost died and it wasn’t – it’s wasn’t peaceful. He didn’t get to talk to Pepper, he didn’t get to do anything, it was abrupt and unexpected and there was nothing but blackness and decay waiting for him and –

‘Hey, calm down,’ he hears the priest’s voice over the ringing in his ears. ‘Don’t be scared. Nothing will happen to you here. You’re safe. You’re all right, you’re safe,’ the man keeps repeating and Tony lets himself listen to those words and trust them, even though he probably shouldn’t because they are specious and easy and _fake_.

It’s so easy to trust them, though.

‘You have time,’ the priest adds when Tony’s breathing is almost back to normal. ‘You have time to make things right.’

‘There’s so much I’ve done wrong,’ he says, still panting slightly, his voice rough. ‘I stopped making weapons when I came back from Afghanistan when I understood how much bad things I’ve done. I can’t – I wish none of that ever happened,’ he adds, feeling no longer in control of his words and letting them slip out to this almost complete stranger.

Or maybe to himself, to make sure he acknowledges them because he can’t ignore what’s been said aloud.

In front of the shiny golden Tabernacle.

He isn’t sure why he’d think about that at all.

‘There is so little I don’t regret. It’s this – it’s a twisted heavy feeling, the regret. The desire to do things differently,’ he states, staring at the calloused hands he’s keeping in his lap. ‘They said God forgives your sins if you regret them.’

‘Regret is just a part of the process,’ the priest says and Tony bows his head in shame because really, it’s just pointless saying all those things. Pouring his soul out to this stranger in such a place. It’s all – he doesn’t know what he’d like it to mean.

Because God doesn’t exist, right?

‘God doesn’t exist,’ Tony declares, shivering a little because he’s too aware everything around him is for the glory of God which feels… strange.

‘And yet you came back,’ the priest says and pockets his rosary, the rattling of the wooden beads suddenly filling the space in a playful and strangely natural way.

 

 

 

**resolution of sinning no more**

It’s early morning, already filled with pale sunlight, and Tony enters the church a few minutes after the morning Mass has ended.

It smells like incense and smoke inside and it’s comforting, as if the air was wrapping itself delicately around Tony’s shivering figure. He hesitates for a few moments, swinging on his feet in the doorframe, but in the end he steps inside, into the complete silence and stillness that makes his muscles relax because it feels safe. After a long night of shallow breathes and inventing and putting together another suit, in case, just in case, without a minute of sleep, it finally feels safe.

He sits on the last bench, pulls knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs tightly. His whole body seems to pulsate with the heartbeat.

He can’t bear to look at the Tabernacle.

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ he whispers into his knees, trembling slightly. He shouldn’t be trembling. He should pull himself together and go outside and do something productive, something that makes sense – and instead he’s here, looking for answers that don’t exists.

Looking for absolution that he doesn’t deserve.

It feels like a long time of talking to himself before the priest comes and sits next to Tony, as usual, but this time he has the Bible with him, too.

‘I need to start everything over,’ Tony says, his voice harsh from all the whispers he said to himself or maybe not only, he doesn’t even know anymore. ‘I need to make sure I’m doing everything right this time and I don’t know, I don’t have any idea how to get a clean slate when I don’t deserve it and the whole world is condemning me.’

‘Of course they are,’ the priest says, his words easy and firm. ‘It’s what everyone would like to do. You’re a public person. Your faults are public. It’s simple to condemn you for them.’

‘God must hate me,’ Tony decides, exhaling slowly. He’s sinned in almost all possible ways, right? Whether it matters or not, he did. ‘He must absolutely hate me.’

‘That’s not true,’ the priest says with an absolute certainty that simply startles Tony. ‘You’ve done so much good and even if you hadn’t, God would still love you unconditionally.’

‘That’s impossible,’ Tony protests immediately, his mind screaming at such an easy way out, at such a simple and unrealistic and naïve approach, but it still gives him this warm feeling in his chest, the sole thought that someone could do something like that completely _unconditionally_.

‘You are an amazing person,’ the priest continues, breaking the thick silence. He takes Tony’s hand and wraps his warm fingers around it reassuringly, the way a mother would, or a friend. Tony surprises himself when he doesn’t flinch at the touch. ‘And if only you believe in it, God will give you absolution because you deserve it and don’t ever, _ever_ , let anyone tell you differently.’

‘It’s naïve, you know, this whole absolution thing –’

‘No,’ the priest says softly, moving away and fiddling with the Bible’s pages. ‘It’s faith.’

Tony blinks at that wondering what the hell he got himself into because he – he believes this man. He shouldn’t because there’s Higgs boson and there was a big bang and Thor is from another world – but he believes the man and it makes him feel raw and naked and all undone.

‘Read this,’ the priest tells him as he stands up a few moments later, putting the Bible with a visible bookmark on the bench where he was just sitting.

Tony takes the Bible home and reads and when he gets to the end, to _"then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin"_ , it just makes sense. He doesn’t try to question it.

It just makes sense.

 

 

 

**confession of one’s sins**

‘I’ve done it only twice in my life,’ Tony says as soon as the priest sits next to him.

It’s been a long day yesterday and a long night later, sleepless and restless and more difficult than Tony would ever admit to anyone, even his best friends. It’s been weeks since he read the words in the Bible.

He’s been building suits because he thought it would stop him from being scared and having panic attacks and he hoped it would help him with making things better but none of it works. It’s unhealthy coping and nothing else and it doesn’t really change anything. He told Pepper all that and she said he should do whatever feels right and then she cried a lot and Tony tried to calm her down for hours.

‘A few months ago you told me you didn’t believe in God,’ the priest says with a question in his eyes.

‘There are endless mysteries of the universe,’ he replies simply. ‘Don’t ask me why or how it happened that I came back here again and again and all this – I don’t understand. You know what Captain America said once? It was about Thor and gods, he said that there’s only one God and he doesn’t dress like that. I laughed when I heard it, later. But I think I envied him that certainty, that one things that didn’t change over time, that… mainstay. I’d never admit it, of course. We did some science magic later, me and doctor Banner. I was sure those two things couldn’t fit into one universe.’

‘So, what changed?’

Tony sighs, trying to wrap his head around all this once again, but he just can’t. It’s much more than anything he’s ever dreamed of.

‘Remember the Crossing of the Red Sea?’ he asks, lip quirking, and the priest laughs lightly. ‘I want this,’ he adds more firmly. ‘I want to confess. I believe in this sacrament. I don’t know why or how but I do and I need it and it feels like a blessing.’

‘Come on, then,’ the priest says, making his way to the confessional, and Tony follows. He kneels and makes the sign of the cross, but his hands are trembling.

‘It’s going to help, right?’ he asks, not thinking whether he sounds childlike or silly, he needs this reassurance now and it’s all that matters. 

‘Of course. You have to have faith and mean everything you say and I know you do –’

‘I just tell you my sins and they’re all gone, how can it be that easy?’

‘Tony,’ the priest says firmly, using Tony’s name for the first time ever. ‘Does it _feel_ easy?’

Tony laughs tightly and just a little bit hysterically and makes sure he keeps his breath under control because it feels like he’s going to hyperventilate if he keeps going like this. His chest is tight hurting, the lungs filling with too much air, so he puts both his hands on the reactor and closes his eyes, concentrating on the device’s hum and his rapid heartbeat.

 _No_ , he thinks. It doesn’t. It feels like burning anticipation, like hope.

He takes one more breath.

‘Bless me Father, for I have sinned,’ he starts, the words surprisingly smooth.

 

 

 

**satisfaction or penance**

Tony’s knees are sore from kneeling when he walks out of the church, hands in pockets, one of them clasped around the gift he got from the priest just before he left.

The sun is shining, late summer rays brushing Tony’s skin with their softest touch. The city is rushing like crazy, like always, with cars honking and people talking on their phones and a slight tremble of an underground train passing running through Tony’s body – but it feels different.

There is destruction, a visible sign of the almost-apocalypse that happened a few months ago, that came and claimed lives and sanity of hundreds of people.

There is pain and injustice and desperation.

There is fear, bone deep and thick and unavoidable, running under the city tissues.

But now, now it’s all – manageable. It’s not overwhelming because nothing can be overwhelming when there is hope. Tony was pretty sure there wasn’t any hope left for him and for most of the damn world but now it feels like there is, deep inside him.

He feels so _light_.

His breaths are still too fast as he walks down the street, slowly making his way to his tower; it’s impossible to get rid of his demons in five minutes or even five weeks. It’s work in progress but it’s really happening. It is. So now he’s got to do so much to fix the damages, he has so many words to say and so many apologies to makes and yet it doesn’t feel overwhelming because he is ready like he’s never been before.

So when he gets to the tower the first person he looks for is Steve. It’s evening already and Steve is sitting in the common room on the Avengers floor, reading a book, nestled in his favorite armchair.

‘So Jesus sacrificed himself for all people,’ Tony says, smiling slightly. Steve looks up at him with an unsure frown, closing the book in his lap. ‘You know, that feels – strangely personal.’

‘Oh,’ Steve breathes, tilting his head in his usual way.

There is a moment of silence filled with nothing more but two sets of breaths and ticking of the nearby clock, and then Tony clears his throat.

‘Do you want to go to a Mass with me, Sunday morning?’ he asks, making Steve blink.

‘You –’ Steve falters, sitting up straighter in the armchair. ‘I didn’t know you – of course I would like to,’ he says, a smile crawling onto his face. ‘ _Really_?’

‘Really,’ Tony assures him and turns around. ‘I’ll let you know the details.’

He gets into the elevator and JARVIS takes him to his private floor where he knows Pepper is already waiting for him. She came back from a trip to Austin just a few hours earlier, after a few days’ absence, and Tony is so glad to see her again.

‘Did you?...’ she asks half the question, walking up to him as soon as he takes of his shoes and jacket, and kisses him. ‘Hey. You’re smiling.’

‘I’m happy,’ Tony tells her. It’s strange, to say that and really, _really_ mean it. ‘I love you,’ he adds, burying his face in the crook of her neck. ‘Thank you for being here,’ he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her waist. ‘I need to find a therapist.’

‘Okay – that’s a lot of things for twenty seconds,’ she comments fondly. ‘I’m glad you’re really smiling.’

‘I still don’t get it,’ Tony says, his words still slightly muffled, ‘but it’s like a blessing. I feel like I can do everything now and I will, I will do all the things I’ve always wished I’d done – and somehow I’m still Tony Stark, you know? A scientist, genius billionaire philanthropist. Gosh, I like that so much, even if I dropped the playboy part some time ago,’ he adds, making Pepper laugh. Her hair is tickling his neck and it’s lovely. ‘And I’m still going to break physics and visit other worlds. I’m just –’ he trails off, taking a deep breath when the starry blackness fills his vision again.

‘Just?’

‘I’m just never going to be scared because I’ll know that I did everything I could and that I’m a good person and that if I die, there is something better waiting for me.’

She doesn’t reply for a few long moments and Tony concentrates on the heartbeat he can feel, still hugging her closely.

‘I want you to take me there,’ she says finally. ‘I want to see it all, too. The miracle worker.’

‘You don’t have to –’ Tony says because he knows she’s been raised atheist and he understands that very well so he would never eve ask her for that much.

‘I want to,’ she cuts in and then gives him a kiss on the forehead. ‘I’ll take a bath now, all right? And then we can eat supper and talk.’

‘Right,’ Tony agrees, moving away from her and observing as she disappears behind the nearby doors. It’ll be more than half an hour before she comes back.

There is no consecrated item in the tower, no crucifix and no sacred image, so Tony kneels down in the middle of the room, wraps his fingerstightly around the rosary he got earlier, feeling the cold beads pressing into his palms, and he prays.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoyed the story. All of your comments are very welcome :)


End file.
